Breaking Pride
by MattieWinter
Summary: Captured by rival pirate Captain Arthur Kirkland, Antonio must survive every hardship thrown at him upon the Brit's ship. How will he keep strong as Arthur throws everything he can think of at him? Arthur is determined to break the man and he will go to any length to do so. Pirate!AU, Human names used, smutty times, violence, etc.
1. Chapter 1

So I know I own you all another chapter in Aladdin but I just got permission form my RP buddy to start posting our RP in chapters. We hope you like it.

So... I think there will have to be warnings here because not only am I a cruel writer... I like it and plot it and scheme it.

_**Warning: Torture, Violence, Blackmail, Sex, etc., etc. use your imaginations people. I'm not going over this bull right now. Know that it's M for many reasons.**_

Though YO! Human names are used. Let's play "Name that Nation!"

Arthur Kirkland- England

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo- Spain

Lovino- Romano

I think those are all in this chapter.

Antonio- Madi (A wonderful, lovely, and awesome RP buddy who laughs with me over Olive Oil... but you'll get to that later. But she's wonderful! Thank you!)

Arthur- Your's Truly

**Hetalia- Himaruya**

(P.S. Neither of us speak Spanish. I mean... If I need to I can order a liter of cheese and ask for a bathroom just across the boarder but that's about it. I'll get a lot farther in French. I don't know about Madi... Aussi I guess. *Kidding Kidding. I promise I'm not making fun of you!*)

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"Kirkland! You damn Brit! Let me out of here! You can't just lock me up in here and expect to get away with it you know! More of my Armada will come to save me. You're messing with the wrong Captain!" Antonio continued to shout at the top of his lungs from the brig, hoping to be loud enough for the people above deck could hear him, aiming for one pair of ears in particular, the British Captains': Arthur Kirkland.

Arthur was an old rival of the Spaniard's and had been for many years now, playing a non-stop game of cat and mouse between them. Yet it almost seemed like the Brit won this round as Antonio pounded his clenched fist against the bars rather violently and heavily, his shackles creating quiet a racket too, hoping to annoy the Brit enough to draw him down to the brig. "Estúpido pedazo de culo al aire Euro escoria" He cursed quietly under his breath, reluctantly sinking down the bars, still exhausted from the fight he'd put up against Arthur while being captured, having not yet rested.

The screaming man below the deck phased Arthur not single bit as he sat and drank his noon time tea. Even the Spanish didn't bothered him for he neither understood nor cared to understand the language. But if that man continued any longer, he may just have to visit him to shut him up. Putting the (most likely) stolen porcelain to his lips, a sigh escaped as the rich liquid splashed across his tongue.

Antonio groaned as he rested his forehead against the bars, everything ached and nothing seemed to be working. As the Spaniard looked around the dim, damp and darkened brig he sighed closing his eyes slightly. His throat starting to hurt each time he tried to shout. Something snapped inside him as Antonio shook his head and pushed himself back up weakly; he would not let the Brit win so easily. "Kirkland!" Antonio tried calling even louder than before, but winced with a short pain cutting a squeak to his voice.

Just as he was finishing his last sip, he heard his name ring through the ship. Though the wood and the air; in the rigging and sails. It was full of what sounded to be malice. He loved it. To be hated and, if he was ever so lucky, feared was such a wonderful thing. It was time to take a trip below deck and to visit that dog. No, no, no. The Arthur Kirkland, Captain, does not report to a prisoner. Definitely not. His little mouse would have to be brought to him. With a simple shout and sharp command, he'd ordered another pot of whatever tea he'd had, thankful he'd invested in attacked that cargo ship a while back, and the prisoner be brought to him on the quarter deck.

Antonio stepped back from the bars as he paced annoyed at the fact that he was being ignored. This wouldn't ever happen if he was back on his ship, none of his men would have the guts to ignore him. But being trapped like this was driving the Spaniard insane as he groaned and moved to kick roughly against the single short bench that was in the cell. Antonio grunted as he was grabbed violently and pulled from his cell.

Clearly not happy Antonio squirmed against the crew member that was tugging him along rather roughly, making sure the Spaniard didn't try anything. He tried to squirm more once he saw the Brit coming into view and gritted his teeth. He didn't like the fact that he was being summoned to the Brit rather than the Brit coming to him.

"Why hello Anthony," Arthur refused to give Antonio the pleasure of his own Spanish name, at least in front of his crew, "I trust you're being good all alone in your little prison?" He laughed. It was a bit funny. Seeing such a free man confined. It was perfect, just splendid. "Do you have any idea why I've brought you before me like a dog?"

Gritting his teeth as the Spaniard cursed only to be shoved to his knees just a few feet to the side of Arthur's chair. He hissed when his knees hit the boards. Peeking up with a glare at Arthur, the Spaniard's eyes narrowed at him at the mention of the wrong name and grunted. "Maldito Brit" The Spaniard cursed under his breath once again and squirmed lightly in his shackles. "No estúpido Brit… " Antonio replied with a more husky tone to his voice as he tried to lower it to hide the squeak whenever he tried to speak louder.

Not liking the tone, he swiped the back of his right hand down across Antonio's jaw in pure ruthlessness. Arthur tutted, "Oh come now Anthony. No need for that. I know you can speak English with enough fluency to make use of Colonial Brothels." Using his foot for he, in all his pride, refused to touch the man too much, he tilted the Antonio's head up to look him directly in the eye.

"Well, I heard a no in there somewhere so I guess I'll just tell you. I plan to break you in every way possible. Hard labor, exhaustion, starvation, dehydration, emotional, spiritual, mental abuse. The list will continue on as I think of new and delicious ways to destroy you. I might even go to Italy and pick up your brat if I ever have the need to." Arthur just smirked. He knew Antonio could do nothing and that even if he were to get himself killed, it would mean Lovino would be in terrible danger. He had this little mouse cornered. Game. Check. Match for this little exposition. He couldn't wait to begin doing everything he imagined himself doing to torture the other.

Hissing with a wince when the Spaniard felt the hand connect with the side of his jaw he grunted at the harsh sting that now pained the rest of his cheek. "Tch…" Was all that Antonio replied with. He sent a death glare up at the British Captain as his head was lifted up by his foot.

The Spaniard wasn't too concerned in what Arthur had to say until he mentioned Italy and he squirmed to push himself up, a rage filling across his face. "No! Leave my Lovi out of this! " Antonio whined clearly shaken by the thought of Arthur getting anywhere near his little Lovino. "I-I don't care what you do to me... just leave him out of this, he's innocent!" Antonio half cried. A flash of fear for the little Italian raced across his eyes no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

It was all too easy. Perhaps a little too easy? Yes. It took the fun out of convincing. Though it wasn't like Arthur cared too much about that. He, unlike Antonio, cared for nothing, for no one save for three. His Treasure. His Tea. And his little Alfred who was far enough away from Europe to be in any danger what so ever. It was a good day after all. And, what's more, he finally got Antonio to use English. Could it get any better? Probably, but his wouldn't push it… for now.

"Now see," he spoke with evil mirth, "that wasn't so bad, was it? You will stay with me until I get bored, then I will get rid of you one way or another. You are now at the bottom of the mast. No status and you are to act like it. You will clean the deck, organize rope, prep cannon, and deal with the rigging. You will sleep where ever you can find room and my crew will take it upon themselves to be sure you aren't slacking or causing disruption on my ship. Pray we don't discover anything or your fate might be less than unpleasant, savvy?"

Getting up from his chair, Arthur kicked the man away from him and left to glance over maps. "The first thing you can do is take my tea set to the galley then report back to my cabin for more instruction." And in a flurry of crimson, he left the three men to their own devices.

Gritting his teeth tighter, Antonio grunted as he was kicked back and put his hands out to catch himself before his face hit the deck boards. The Brit had known about his little Lovi. "For how long," he wondered and, "When had he found out about him?" The Spaniard had been so careful and protective over him to not let word slip. Yet, somehow Arthur had known… and the question now how.

Glaring for a few moments before he even bothered to move, Antonio let everything sink with a sigh knowing he had no choice for now but to do as he was told. "Maldito Brit..."Antonio hissed before slowly getting up as he curled his hands into tight fists and closed his eyes pushing himself up to stand. Reluctantly reaching across to grab the tea set before turning on his heels with it, head down as he stalked out. It'd take a while to get used to having to put aside his captain's status, but if it meant it protected Lovino, he'd do anything.

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YOO! So, pirates? Yes? No? Personally, I like pirates and pirate stories and ... stuff.

Please note... beating people up because you what to know about them isn't a good idea... it hurts feelings and makes people hate you... usually. ;)

So, when I have time I edit more and post more. But I have to work on Aladdin. HeroinOfDarkness I won't let ya' down! I promise. Even if it takes a while!

-MattieWinter-

(Dudes... seriously, if you speak Spanish, feel free to correct us and our Spanish... or our spelling or grammar if it's wrong. I know I'm awesome but I'm not a god.)


	2. Chapter 2

Ah! I'm sorry guys. I've gotten busy. Summer school work and all. But I am working on everything... I promise.

I'll be working as much as I can over the next week. I'm in the Bay Area visiting family at the moment so... Yeah.

So, until the next chapter.

**Hetalia- Himaruya**

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His cabin was hot and stuffy when he entered. It was probably one of the few downsides to being captain, instead of being below deck where the water cooled the air. But it had more perks so he kept his position without regret.

Peeling off his coat and feathery hat, both he held dear, he threw them on a chest and sat at his table that was littered with parchment, ink, navigational tools and other odd bobbles. Around the room were small, but valuable items he'd picked on his travels from America, the Indies, China, and other places.

Falling into his chair, he rubbed his temples and tried to focus. Debts needed to be collected from Francis and he knew he wouldn't pay them easily. He also had to report to the Queen with his plunder and replace a few crew members that had been killed when he raided Antonio's ship. The next few months would not be fun. Not at all.

Antonio continued to grumble, attempting to figure out how the Brit had found out about Lovino. The Spaniard took the tea set to the galley like he'd been told, ignoring the harsh sneers and comment that were being whispered all around him from the Brit's crew members. Life was definitely going to be hell aboard this vessel.

With a soft groan Antonio was shoved out of the way as one of the members walked into his shoulder roughly; all the Spaniard could do was to ignore it as he slowly made his way back up to the Brit's quarters. He stood by the door entrance glaring at the British Captain before him, holding his arms out. "Can I at least get these damned shackles removed?" Antonio mumbled a little hopefully having come back just like he'd been told to. Not really knowing what to expect from the Brit or what could come next.

Hearing the door to his cabin open, Arthur straightened out a little as to not be caught with his head in his hands. The door closed and he kept his head down, busy in the writing of his captain's log and ignoring his captive. He preferred making him wait anyways; he knew it annoyed the man.

After scribbling in his journal and faux accounting work, Arthur glanced up at Antonio vaguely before going back to shuffling paper. "If you want something done about those," he said not amused and uncaring, "then stop standing there life a daft fool and get over here. I, most definitely, am not coming to you. I would have thought you would have known that but you are you so then again." Reaching into the bottom draw of his desk, he pulled out the master set of keys, jingling them before tossing the ring on his desk.

Antonio narrowed his eyes at the Brit and sighed before hanging his head and lowering his arms while he made his way over to the Arthur's desk. Glaring off to the side as he once again held out his wrists. Not liking being stripped of status, power, and his respect.

"How," Antonio breath finally after a long moments of silence. "How did you find out about my little Lovi?" Antonio asked the question that had been bugging him, trying to trick an answer out of Arthur. Having not been paying particular attention to how the Brit had been as he'd walked in, the being ignored part until it suited the Brit was going to get old and annoying fast... Antonio could tell.

He chuckled. The man's concern for the child was... endearing. "Antonio, my dear Antonio, I know just simply because I know things. I have money, power; and I use it to gain the upper hand. But don't be so flattered," grabbing the chain he began to shove random keys in the hole in attempt to unlock the shackles, "don't you think I know about Francis too? I know he has a little boy that he loves will all heart. Damn, where is that blasted key?" He moved more roughly until he found the key and unlocked both wrists. "Ah, there we go, all better. You should know Antonio; I don't have anything against you. It's all merely business."

Antonio gritted his teeth. That wasn't the answer he was hoping for. "That still doesn't tell me how you found out..." The Spaniard muttered. His hands retreated to rub at his wrists once they were free from the shackles. Antonio would have said thank you but this wasn't a case where he was willing to use proper manners just yet. Not towards the Brit. "If this is just business you should let me return back to my home and to my Lovi." Antonio whined a little.

Sighing, Arthur shook his head, "Attacking your ships, taking your treasure, knowing your weaknesses. That, my friend, is business. Keeping you here however, is something else entirely. Something more entertaining, if you will. And as for little Lovino, well, I happen to be in a very good relation with a Belgian woman called Belle who happens to live near you. Little Lovino really enjoys speaking with her. Such a wonderful woman." Standing, he continued, "How do you feel about visiting America Antonio? Because we have a new destination and we are going to be spending quite a bit of time together from now on."

The mention of that name surprised Antonio a lot as his hands curled into tight fists by his side, the Spaniard let out a soft groan of annoyance. The fact he couldn't go home anytime he wanted trapped the Spaniard though the tried to hide it as much as possible.

Glancing up at the question Antonio ran a hand over his forehead. "Why would you want to take me to America with you?" Antonio asked. The dreaded feeling that Lovi would start to worry about him if could not return home by the date he promised he would washed over him. He'd already been away from home for a few months as it was already and the statement the Brit had just thrown at Antonio was not going to mean well for that date. If he were to escape it'd be in the Brit's next destination... America he thought.

Antonio's little groan was comical. How Arthur loved to torture people, string them along, and mess with them. "I don't really know. I don't really know. But, what I do know is that I would like to know. I would like to realize what it is that makes you interesting."

Grabbing him map and placing his keys in his pocket, he walked toward the door. "Well, are you coming or not? You still have a deck to clean and dinner to clean up after before you can sleep tonight. Then it all starts again tomorrow."

Antonio huffed as he glanced at the desk before following after Arthur. He already didn't like the Brit and the fact he was following orders from him only made Antonio annoyance grow. He would have said something but he didn't find the grounds too and remained silent, reluctantly following him out with his mind swirling with escape plans and worry.

Being sure that his Spanish captive exited his cabin, he turned to him and ordered in the voice his crew knew to be the voice of a commander, "The deck will be swept before you sleep tonight. Have your dinner then be below deck. Be up early tomorrow and go to the galley. The cook will have my breakfast ready. Bring it to me and I'll set you up for your duties for the day. Do not disturb me until then."

Leaving them man, he walked up to the deck he'd left only a short while ago, wooden boards creaking under his harsh steps and wind fluttering through his bandanna's ends. An offhand thought about the wind fluttered through his brain but too quickly to remember it. Marching up to his navigator, he consulted him. "Mr. Smith, set a course for Boston. I believe it's time to visit little Alfred again."

"Aye Captain," was the reply before the man quickly got to work.

Arthur walked leisurely to the back railing and leaned on it allowing the spray of salt water to kiss his skin. He loved the ocean. In his life it was all he ever wanted. But now, there was something else. To figure out Antonio was his goal. To know him, to understand him, and if he dare, empathize with him. Arthur didn't like this feeling that drove him. Not at all. But this feeling was one that hadn't led him astray from fortune before so why should it now? He just needed to wait.

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Yeah, so... I have a few questioins.

**-Would you like longer chapters? Like... instead of 1,500 (aprox.) words per chapter it would be about 3000 (aprox.) words.**

**-Would you like me to make a tumblr that follows my writing (as well as role plays I'm in) fanfiction, original pieces, and thoughts I have while I write?**

-MattieWinter-


	3. Chapter 3

Ok, Longer chapter this time. Why? Because there will be a longer interval between uploads. I am a student and I do need the time to study and work, and run clubs, and do sports etc etc etc... =_=. Life. But there will be uploads because I will not let hard work go to waste!

**Archivocojo (Guest**) - Thank you for the review. (Are you French perhaps? I only ask because you'd place history instead of story and I know that History and story are the same word in french.) But your English is fine! And I promise I won't leave it undone. It's an RP and Maddie and I don't know when we will finish.

**SilhouetteSeeker** - Ah, yeah. It is hard to find some good stories with a good Spain in it. I hope this turns out well! ^^ And I think that Maddi plays a wonderful Spain. (Don't worry, I'll let you and everyone in on a secret, no matter what Arthur does remember that Antonio is as strong and as sturdy as a bull.)

**Guest 1**- YES! Oh god Pirates for the win every single time man!

**Guest 2**- I'm glad you like the story. Don't worry. It shouldn't have months between posts. Only a few weeks if that. (I'll do my best, I promise.)

**Hetalia- Himaruya**

TO EDITING THE NEXT CHAPTER OF ALADDIN! (Really... it's hard two ongoing fics and you've got a block on one.)

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Antonio stiffened at the sudden change in Arthur's voice half staggering to a stop in surprise, letting a few low curse words escape his lips when the Brit turned his back to him. Antonio wasn't too sure on where to find the things he was needed but he was soon tossed a broom which he caught easily. At least he still wasn't in shackles this time.

Glancing up, Antonio watched the Brit walk away and gripped tighter onto the broom, the Spaniard wanted nothing more than to throw the broom at the back of the Brit's head but he knew on deck he was severely out number and was reduced to grit and bare it while he sighed heavily and glanced down to the deck boards.

Starting on his long task ahead of him, knowing it was probably going to be a late night if he were to get everything done, he sighed. As the Spaniard started to sweep, ignoring the few snickering laughs around him. It was humiliating for the Spaniard being forced to sweep his rival's deck when he should be walking his own on the way back to Italy instead of heading to America.

Arthur had stayed there for a long time, watching the ocean, the fish that darted under the hull, even throwing flecks of bread crumbs from his trousers pockets to them even if the bread sunk before the fish could eat it. It wasn't often he allowed himself to relax, but a short evening was well deserved after today. Right? Yes. He thought so. Pulling up the extra chair usually kept on the quarter deck for when he and Mr. Smith has long discussions on their course's integrity, he sat, sun to his face as they headed west, and watched his crew scurry about in attempt to finish their finish-able duties as fast as possible.

He watched every one of them. Mr. Corwin, his first mate at the helm who was to be replaced by his second mate Barret once the night came. He watched several unnamed men take turns in the rigging while others rested on deck playing various games or singing songs they knew. He watched his Cabin Boy, Peter, run about with small portions of food for the crew for dinner. Most had originally disapproved of the child's presence on the ship but once Arthur had settled the matter with a stern gaze the men only grumbled to themselves but generally liked the boy. The he wandered to Antonio sweeping, being jeered at, and scoffed at. He felt bad in a strange and unfamiliar way but he ignored it.

Pulling off his bandanna and opening his shirt, he cooled himself off in the breeze. He never liked looking so common and ungentlemanly but it had to be done. Heading closer to the equator had done that as they rode the Canary current south to the North Equatorial for the fastest waters.

Shifting in his chair he knocked his elbow on his cutlass and it reminded of the cleaning it needed. Unsheathing the weapon and balancing it on his lap, he spit in his bandanna then began to rub the blood and grim from it that was deposited from the earlier battle with Antonio's crew.

Once finished, he re-sheathed his weapon and headed down the stairs for third or fourth time that day, and went into his cabin. The sun was setting just as he finished his paperwork; he'd had a long day with an early one to greet in just several hours. Closing his books and placing them in his desk he found his favorite whiskey, kept behind the statue of a golden tiger that he'd acquired in British India and took a swig. It burnt is throat in just the way he liked his liquor to. Pulling off his shirt and trousers until he was in nothing more than his linen underwear when he climbed into bed, bed being what looked to be a crate with a mattress pushed up against the wall. Closing his eyes, he let his body stretch and fall into darkness.

He wasn't much of a religious man, but being at sea was always risky so he prayed to whatever or whoever might be there. He prayed that they would arrive to Boston safely and his little Alfred would be there. He prayed that he'd figure out Antonio and he prayed that the next ship that they attacked would be loaded with whiskey, food, and perhaps a woman or two that he could hold for ransom and release for a price at the next port they hit, which would probably be in the Caribbean. He drifted off to sleep, awaiting his morning tea and gruel.

Antonio huffed; it'd been a while since he'd last been made to sweep. As he looked up, he saw he was only half way across the deck and moon was already high into the night sky. Standing for a moment, as the Spaniard closed his eyes to catch a spray or two from the railings edge with the cool wind to his face, he smiled faintly.

The British Captain had already turned in for the night it seemed as he glanced up to the closed cabin quarters doors. Head down Antonio pressed on sweeping through the night, happy that he'd escaped the taunting from the other men for now. After a long few hours of getting every part of the remaining deck Antonio blinked at the few first rays of sun light that slipped out from the horizon which had caught his eyes by spilling across the floor boards in front of him and sighed. He'd hoped for some sleep as he was still rather exhausted from the fight he'd put up with Arthur. Moving to the stairs Antonio didn't think twice about how early the Brit had meant for him to fetch his breakfast as he decided to curl up on the bottom of the steps the broom wrapped in his arms as he leant against it and the railing of the stairs to close his eyes and dozed off, hoping for a slight nap before he would bother with Arthur again.

It wasn't long after the sun rose that Arthur began to stir. He was one of those people that preferred to "rise and set with the sun" as he called it. Knowing the date and their relative position from his talk yesterday with Mr. Smith, he assumed it would be roughly around 5:30 on that fine June day. But that knowledge and deduction came only from his long studies as a child growing up in England. But he didn't need anyone knowing that. He sat up stretching his arms over his head and scratched his head. Aside from the water lapping at the hull, it was quiet save for the steps of the few members of the crew that preferred to rise early like himself.

Still groggy from sleep, he looked around trying to figure out what was missing. His desk was in perfect condition, his whiskey was where he'd left it, his blouse and trousers were on the floor. But that was normal he supposed.

What was it? The one squeeze from his stomach let him know. Antonio. Antonio was supposed to have his breakfast. Oh course. Now he remembered. He only specified the time as "early." Oh well, that fault was on him. But he'd never let anyone know that. His crew hand never seen him make a mistake as simple as forgetting that time and he refused to let it be so now. Arthur apologized in his mind to Antonio for what he was about to do to the man. But it had to be done. And really, he was never in a good mood if he didn't get his morning tea.

Throwing off the covers he sauntered over to the trousers on the floor, then was his shirt and pulled them on with totally disregard for the way he currently looked. Grabbing his boots, he crammed his feet into them and flung his doors open with a clang. It didn't take long to find the man at the stairs, cuddling up with the broom. As cute as it was, he couldn't let it slide. He had a reputation as a ruthless man of the sea to uphold. Roughly, he grabbed a hold of Antonio's shirt and pulled him from his spot and dropped him to the ground. "Oi! Wake your lazy ass up," Arthur shouted. He stood over him, a boot on the others chest to hold him down, waiting for the other to respond to abrupt the awakening.

It hadn't seemed long that he'd been asleep and to be frank, Antonio was out like a light. He'd needed this sleep even if it was only a short while. He'd been dreaming about rough dates that he could attempt to try and get back to his little Lovi, wondering how long it'd be before Kirkland would get tired of him. But of course Antonio's pride always got in the way of his more sensible side as he vaguely felt the grip to his shirt the Spaniard twitched a little.

Still trying to stay asleep, only to find it impossible as he winced a little at the sudden drop. His eyes flying open only to be staring up at the Brit. With his eyes widening Antonio squirmed with gritted teeth under the Brit's boot, cursing rather loudly under his breath at him. "Kirkland you god damn idiot! You should know not to wake a man when he's sleeping!" Antonio whined clearly not happy about the rough wakening. "Tu estúpido carbón," the Spaniard hissed once again in Spanish as he tried to push the Brit's foot off his chest, glaring up at Arthur with tired ridden eyes. "What the hell do you want now?" The Spaniard growled lowly.

"Idiot," Arthur stated as if it was a concert face, and by his mind, it was, "I don't speak Spanish. Remember?" Crouching down to grip the man's face making his lips and the apples of his cheeks protrude almost comically. "And I do believe that I asked for breakfast early. Didn't I? Well, I haven't gotten breakfast. Not my tea, not my gruel, nothing. Now you are going to pay for it."

Pushing him back down, he stood and looked to his second mate who'd taken the helm at some point in the night. "Mr. Barret! Have this man lashed to the mast. He is going to pay for my discomfort with his own. No food, no water, no shade. Take his shirt and assemble the crew. I'm going to get breakfast. Have everyone out here by the time I'm finished."

Turning on his heels, he followed the cook, who'd most likely heard the yelling as he was always up early and though it best to deliver the food since Peter had probably forgotten to get up again, unaware of Antonio's duty, into his cabin with his breakfast and to get ready. It would take at most twenty minutes.

Barret was down the stair with Antonio in his hands before the captain even left, fearing the blond man's wrath coming down on him.

Making a noise in complaint as his face was grabbed Antonio held the stare with the Brit. Grunting as he pulled his head back only to be released, "Good then it's probably better that you can't understand what I'm saying." Antonio grumbled quietly only meaning for that part to be too himself. As he started to try and explain himself he flinched lightly at the second shout and glanced across to the man that Arthur had obviously mentioned.

With a winced when his back hit the deck oddly Antonio growled when he was picked up by Mr. Barret, "D-damn it Kirkland!" Antonio half shouted back finding the need to break his silence as he squirmed while being pulled away. To the Spaniard it seemed completely unfair to suddenly been tied to the mast like this. In his eyes the Spaniard hadn't done anything wrong, he would have gotten the Brit's breakfast if he'd given him a damn chance. But no now the Spaniard was stuck in this mess and he didn't have any idea what the Brit was planning on doing with him. And he was more the reluctant to give up his shirt too. "Let go of me! I said let go!" Antonio hissed to the other crew member that had grabbed him. Struggling was harder for the Spaniard who was still rather half asleep and confused at why the Brit's attitude suddenly changed and why it changed for the worst it seemed.

In his cabin, Arthur grumbled and ate. He cursed through his tea and the cook just replied, "Aye Captain," and "Of course Captain." He tucked his shirt in, and fastened his belt. He pulled his sash from his wardrobe and tied it around his waist over his belt and over that was placed his weapons belt which he loaded down with his cutlass, and both pistols. He grabbed his crimson coat with multiple embellishments and pulled it on. Next came his feathered hat. Black with white plumage and three rings pierced through the right side of the tricorne. He was ready to dazzle and terrify.

Ignoring the darker man, Barret held him tighter and grabbed a coil of rope. Reaching to the bottom the Antonio's shirt, he pulled it off of him in a single yank. He knew what this poor soul was in for and he would do his job properly for his captain. Binding the man's arms together behind him, he threw him against the mast and began to tie the rope around him.

"This will all just be easier if you take whatever it is he has for you and apologize for it later to him in private. After that, don't let what you've done happen again. Things only get worse after the first offence," Barret said off offhandedly. He felt sorry for the man. He truly did. But the captain did what he did to keep the crew in line. There was no other way. Any order was to be followed, even if it was impossible one would have to try.

Leaving the man, he went below deck and woke the crew as fast as he could. "Be up on deck awake and alert in five minutes. Captain's orders! Anyone left unaccounted for will be flogged and starved!" Flipping over several hammocks to start the process and left to organize the deck.

Antonio gritted his teeth as the other crew member shoved him around so easily. The same however was not about to go for his pride as he furiously shook his head while he was being tied. "Hell no... I'm not apologizing to that idiot for anything. I haven't done anything wrong." Antonio hissed as he squirmed against the uncomfortable ties that were somewhat digging into the Spaniards skin, biting harsher each time he tried to move; causing him to curse under his breath while he glanced to the side noticing the crew members that started to come above deck.

This was really starting to concern Antonio as he watched one by one the numbers thicken until all the crew members were out on deck. Antonio glared back at a few that noticed him first. Squirming in the ties he huffed an annoyed breath, humiliated to even been stuck in a position like this.

"Damn it, Damn it, Damn it..." Antonio grumbled to himself as the struggling was only using up some of his own strength. The Spaniard truly had no clue what Arthur had in store for him and it was starting to bug him. But something was giving Antonio a bad feeling about this as he gulped and turned his glare up to the Captain's Quarters while he waited for the Brit to re-emerge from the double doors and show himself once again rather than leaving him waiting out like this.

Taking his sweet time to gather himself, he finally exited his cabin with his cook following right behind him. He was pleased to see his crew lined up with the highest ranking members, his first and second mates and his navigator off to the side, and the rest standing there, silently. Hands clasped behind him, keeping his whip concealed, we waked up to the man and looked him straight in the eyes. "Anthony," he began with a sick, sweet tone, "I don't want to make this any harder than it has to be. Tell me, what you have done wrong so I can leave you in peace for the day. All it takes is acknowledging what you did wrong." Arthur raised a thick eyebrow at him and waited, hoping the man would swallow his pride, like he originally wanted him to, and admit. He didn't want to punish him for what he didn't do, but some things had to be done to maintain order.

Antonio gritted his teeth and furiously shook his head. "It's Antonio you stupid git, and I haven't done anything wrong! NO!" Antonio spat stubbornly back at Arthur, having no idea what the Brit was hiding from him. Curling his hands into tight fists by the ties Antonio glared up at Arthur wondering just exactly what he was doing, treating him like this. Glancing around to search for Mr. Barret the first crew member Antonio had actually managed say something to without the other seeming too harsh to him.

Wiping the small flecks of spit that landed near his eye, Arthur tutted, reaching out to stroke Antonio's face with the back of his hand. "My dear, dear friend. I'm thinking back over your time spent on this ship and your record isn't starting out as clean as I would have liked it. Forgoing a direct order given to you, insulting your captain, denying the proven allegations against you? My, my. It seems like there is a lot stacked up against you. Now, the punish meant for disregarding a direct order from me follows as such," and Arthur spoke with conviction and intensity, "He convicted of the disobeying or disregarding of a direct order from the Captain will be lashed to the mast and will be forced to forgo his shirt, shade, food, or water for the entirety of twenty-four hours. As for insulting me," and Arthur was truly sympathetic for what he did next. Pulling his hand back, his right rose above his head and brandished his cat-o'nine-tails. Swiping it down with swift fury and strength, he brought it harshly down upon Antonio's chest.

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Well, I hope this is long enough for you this time. ^^

Well, I love you all.

-MattieWinter-


	4. Chapter 4

I fail at deadlines that I give myself. OTL Forgive me... and as for Aladdin... I've hit a block on wording... I'll be working on it soon. Wish me luck at the dentist tomorrow. This will make or break on whether I need to get my wisdom teeth pulled. Atleast two of them. O.o You've no idea how scared I am.

But back to business:

Guest: You beautiful thing you... I love you because then I know someone reads what I post.

Guys, when you get rp partners... especially long term ones, get to know them. PEOPLE ARE AWESOME!

Do I need a disclaimer here?

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Coiling back from the Brit Antonio hissed lightly at the touch to his cheek. Causing him to tense, it had all happened in the blink of an eye and it shocked Antonio to the pain the sudden lash of the whip had brought with it.

Crying out in a short burst of pain, the Spaniard arched against the mast before slumping back down onto it while he breathed heavily at the harsh sting that now ragged his body. "Y-you are not my Captain. I Antonio Fernandez Carriedo do not sail under you as a crew member! Stupid old git..." Antonio hissed as he panted lightly only to slightly start regaining himself. Squirming against the ties he continued his glare across the Brit. "And I did nothing wrong..." Antonio repeated stubbornly.

The crew visibly shrunk back when the whip came out. Several had known that lash and vowed to never take it again. Laughing a little, like a child would at a puppet show Arthur replied, "Not your Captain? Well, I beg to differ. Most defiantly since it is YOU sweeping the deck, YOU taking orders from ME, YOU who has no crew, nor a ship, nor even a shirt on his back. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo," Arthur spit his name, "is nothing."

Turning to Corwin, his tone turned from laughter to something much darker, "Fetch me a pail of sea water." Standing there, he looked Antonio in the eyes and waited for the water. It would only make it hurt much worse with the sea on his skin. Not to mention dry him out and make him unbelievably itchy and uncomfortable like it did with others.

The Spaniard gulped a little as he glared at Arthur, with a gruesome death stare not taking his eyes off the other for a minute. "Just because you're forcing me to do those things doesn't not make me accept that you're my Captain. Stupid English git..." Antonio hissed at the Brit. Not caring that he was probably making things worse for himself by only insulting the British Captain further, digging his own hole as such, but that's exactly what Antonio wanted, he wanted more than anything to have the bragging rights to say that he could get under the notorious Kirkland's skin and make him squirm especially in front of his own men.

"I will never accept you as my Captain. I sail under no one." The Spaniard then took another daring move as he spat onto the Brit's deck and aimed near his feet, only just narrowly missing his shoe. He wasn't looking forward to the sting of the sea water that was about to come but the Spaniard knew he just had to grit and bare it.

"Whether you accept me not does not matter. Because I am and my crew will make sure that you know it." Small jeers were heard behind him until he silenced them with a single look. Barret returned with the pail and Arthur snatched it from him and doused Antonio with the contents. "I want you alive you worthless swine. I've increased your sentence to two days. No one has lasted longer than three days in this god forsaken heat. Fifteen lashes will also be delivered by myself and you will be left to dry out like the meat you are." Tossing the wooden pail aside, he raised the whip again and again against the man before him until his chest turned red and bled slightly. Finishing, he barked to his crew, "Any attempt at sympathy to him and you can pay his sentence as well as your own. Now get to work!"

Antonio tensed against the ropes enough to make them strain a sound out. As he was hit with the salt water the Spaniard gasped harshly but sucked in any other noises. Chuckling a little menacingly at the harsh stinging sensation that now wreaked over Antonio's quivering body he still had that defiant glance in his eyes. "Well your about to add someone who can last to that list cause I'm not going to let some puny old geezer defeat me so easily. " Antonio sneered right back, only to become quiet with held back winces and some short bursts of cries of pain when he felt the continuation of the lashes against his chest.

It was worse because this was also the first time Antonio's skin had felt the wrath of the nine tails. If it were in any different situation Antonio would of begged him the to get it over with. But no he still clutched weakly onto his pride fading in and out of consciousness in between the lashes towards the end. His own blood dripping onto the deck floor below him as he panted, wheezing short sharp breaths of pain filled gasps. Everything just started feeling like a searing ice cold burning numb sensation after a while. But no Antonio was still rather stubborn as he forced himself to stay conscious baring the heat, the salt from the water before still stinging at his wounds and the wind beating against the open cuts from the whips nasty claws. He wasn't going to give in and let the Brit show him up like that.

Arthur only sneered at the limp man. Leaning in close he whispered, "I will see you in two days. I know, because you will live and you will come to me. Two hellish days is a long time here," and slapped his cheek just to add insult to injury before taking his place at the helm where he could observe his entire ship... or at least the parts that mattered at the moment. Like his little captive. He would make sure that his word would be held firm. He lashed out all morning. Antonio had gotten under his skin.

Antonio made him itch. His stubbornness always got to him for as long as he'd known the man in their long cat-mouse relationship. God. That man infuriated him. Arthur wanted to know what made him tick. He needed to know. People always broke under him. And Antonio had a resolve. Damn. It was frustrating. Now he definitely wanted a fight. Maybe in a few days they would run across a ship going from Spain to New Spain. This current was used by them quite a bit. Maybe even slaughter every man aboard and force him to watch. It all depended.

Antonio let out a low weak growl at the Brit. Things weren't looking well for Antonio at all, and he was just thankful his little Lovi was safe back in Italy, not here to see him in such a state. The Spaniard was always too stubborn for his own good. And this was probably one of the worsened cases, knowing it was a lost cause at the end of it. But that didn't stop Antonio from fighting it. Oh no, he'd used every inch of his breath to stay alive so that he could one day hopefully return to his little Italian that was so young and innocent. He had so much to learn and Spaniard hadn't finished teaching him yet either. Spending the next few hours dazed out of pain that still wreaked his body as if he'd just received the lashes. Antonio wondered if there was a way for the pain to stop without him dying or without him accepting aid from Arthur which he knew would only hurt his pride more than it already had been. Though Arthur had been right about one thing. He would go to him… only if it gave him a chance to finish off the Brit for good. Something like that could oh so easily solve the Spaniard's problems.

Arthur's mood did improve a little as the day moved on with itself. By the time the sun was high in the sky, he'd grown tired of giving orders, having the deck swabbed twice, asking everyone to strip into the least they could wear as someone washed their clothing in water drawn from the sea, and even had the cannons polished. Working people was something that always drained his fury. Well that, and killing but he had to settle for the former. Summoning Peter, the boy came running. Such a fine lad. Sweet and innocent in the face but a devilish trickster in the mind.

Stopping before him, Peter raised his hand in salute, "Aye Captain, what you request of me?"

The boy was marvelous alright. Entrusted to him years earlier, and Arthur never regretted allowing the boy on his ship for he followed orders splendidly and proved a trustworthy cabin boy and on occasion, spy. "When my tea is ready, you may bring it to my cabin."

Peter's face lit up. Not many were allowed in the Captain's cabin. He'd only been let in only a few times as the Captain hardly ever had his noon tea indoors. "Aye sir! And with haste so it doesn't cool!" And he ran off to the galley to wait.

"Mr. Corwin?"

"Yes?"

"You may take the helm until Mr. Barret is rested and can take over. I shall look over your progress later. Mr. Smith?"

The small man looked up from his maps. Brown eyes looked to Arthur, "Captain?"

"I wish to speak with you alone about various predicaments we may encounter. If you please?"

"Right away Sir," and he stood, rolling up his maps and following Arthur into his cabin.

Passing Antonio's line of sight, he looked to him with a grin, just in case he saw and needed to be reminded of where he was.

Barely looking back at Arthur, the Spaniard huffed as he merely hung his head. Wondering just how long he could actually last like this knowing that one thing or another would have to break eventually as much as it pained the Spaniard to admit it. But Antonio would rather it of been his body first before his spirit and free will. Now just to unintentionally try to piss Arthur off further he avoided looking up at the Brit when he knew the other was staring at him. Trying to give off a 'this is nothing' taunting smile which a lot of sailors would start to call him insane by now.

This wasn't of Antonio's concern though he was purposely trying to trick the Brit into losing it just once at least in front of his men. Which Antonio knew all too well to be suicidal for even he himself was unaware of what Kirkland could truly do if he was pushed enough. With most of his thoughts back to his little Lovino the Spaniard closed his eyes thinking he'd finally at least get some more sleep, even if he was in pain.

Seeing the man on the mast once more put Arthur in a foul mood. Who in the Queen's name did he think he was to smile and rest? Having to compose himself before he did anything drastic, he stalked his way in his cabin like a young child and shut the door. Mr. Smith, nearly frightened, as he was an easily spooked older man, stuttered out, "W-what is it t-that you wish t-to speak with me about sir," he finished quickly?

Arthur, unlike the rumors, was a rather civilized man. He'd grown up in quite the Bourgeoisie family. He'd attended school, learned French, could dance for the most part, and had high regard for using manners and respect towards women and the elderly. Lowering his voice to something more appropriate to use inside a building he began casual, "Mr. Smith, please, take a seat. We don't want you to topple over, now do we?"

The elder laughed, "Captain that is just like you. I have never heard you speak an ill word against I, nor any woman. But I am not that old. I still have a good few fights left in this body."

Pulling up another chair for the man, Arthur clapped him on the back, "Of course, of course, but formalities are not what I wish to speak with you about today."

"Oh? Go on."

Clearing his throat he continued, "I would like to know the possibility of running across a Spanish Galleon?"

It wasn't shock, but realization that crossed the man's face. "Is he getting to you that much? You barely see him most years and he's only spent something of three days on your ship and he's already under your skin?" He shrunk back afraid for the worst. He knew that they held mutual respect for the other but in his years of sailing with the blond he knew when he was pushing Arthur too far. Most of these included questioning his pride and hard hotheadedness. He never backed down from a challenge and it seemed like he challenged himself to breaking his Spanish rival. Unfortunate.

Arthur reddened at Smith's words. He hated being read so easily. But he knew every word spoke both would take to other grave. Brushing it off he asked again, "So when do you think we'll find one?"

Laughing a little he replied, "Well, We haven't seen one yet but the weather is good this time of year and this is their dominate route so it should be soon enough. But it will probably be filled with food and tools if anything. Perhaps a few rich people looked to make a fortune on a plantation in New Spain. Not much gold but a worthy take never the less."

Arthur approved of this, "Yes, well thank you."

Standing with his maps he bid his captain a good tea and left just as Peter came clanging in with Arthur's favorite thing.

Antonio's body ached, everything all seemed but a daze to him, if the Brit stuck to his word of no food and no water then that would be three days Antonio wouldn't be able to eat anything since the first day he'd been attacked he'd only eaten on the eve before. Already in his half sleep Antonio heard his stomach growl rather loudly. Demanding that he had food, and the movement of the growling from his stomach chaffed his cuts across the rope binding him. As a rather large unsuspecting wave crashed against the Spaniard's chest he hissed at the fresh pain and only tingled the awakening of the itch to the water that had been thrown on him before. Leaving Antonio to squirm, wishing he hadn't spoken up and pissed the British Captain off so much.

Looking around at the crew around him, he sighed missing his own livelier crew. Eyes half closed, the pounding in Antonio's head from the heat were making things seem a lot worse. But this alone was not enough to break the Spaniard. No this was only the beginning for him, Antonio was a finer frame built then most men it was true but he didn't let up all too easily at all and he'd been known around small parts of his hometown for just that reason in some parts. Though right now Antonio didn't know if he should place that trait as a gift or a curse.

Tea hadn't gone exactly as he planned. It only made him more frustrated and upset. Was he really so weak to let this get to him? Why so quickly? He refused to ponder the subject and resorted to squishing every single emotion and though immediately. Even with this approach, he would have to distract himself. Removing himself from his chair, he huffed onto deck and began to pace it. He over looked the crew, and climbed into the sail. Arthur slowly but surely made his way to the bow where he watched his ship cut sharply through the water. Finding nothing out of order, he moved below starting with his gun deck. He felt lucky to have a larger ship, something that would hold up in a battle to the death. He walked his guns and occasionally grabbed a stray crew member to help him secure the cannon as it was a two person job. It had been a long time since he'd been required to do such work but he never missed a beat or faltered in the slightest. After several tough years under a captain, he'd learned each job aboard well.

By the time he'd worked his way to the bilge he'd spent nearly five or so hours inspecting his ship. The sun was beginning to go down and the crew would be grumbling about their evening meal as they only got two a day: in the morning and at night. After dark would be the perfect time to question Antonio. Or try to talk to him at least. Just as the cook was about to pass him on the main deck, Arthur pulled him aside. "Make sure everyone is feed like always, seconds can be given to whoever comes back first. But keep a portion set aside for myself. I'll eat after everyone has gone to bed."

Eyeing his captain suspiciously for the man hardly ever ate. He had breakfast and noon tea but it was all man ever seemed to run on. "Aye Captain," he acknowledged and set up his table as the men scurried to him.

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Oooo What's gonna happen to Antonio? *spooky fingers*

-MattieWinter-


	5. Chapter 5

What's it been... two months? Ehhe, sorry 'bout that. School, is a bitch. But on the bright side, It's up in time for Halloween and actually made me get my shit together and make my pirate costume. Back to my point, I'm going to be able to work more on chapters now that October is pretty much over and Break will be happening soon. (Free weekends at last!) We'll be getting into the meat and potatoes soon... I promise.

**AsunaKiritoYuiLove- **I wouldn't tell that to Arthur. He'd probably keelhaul ya'. Pfft. ^^ Kidding. He's probably a big baby... or a monster. I can't tell you which yet. You'll have to make up you mind. But in what I can tell you, I plan to make you love and hate him with such a furry that you can't peg him as anything.

Alright you guys, you know the drill. Who does Hetalia belong to?

That's right. Not fucking me.

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Antonio already felt wrecked. It'd had been a long time since he was last ever in a situation as bad as this one, and it was taking its toll on the Spaniard's body, falling in and out of consciousness all day from the heat, exhaustion and pain.

Antonio barely noticed the night fall, it was only when the temperature started to drop did it relieve a little stress on the Spaniard as he huffed a short dry breath falling back asleep again, his body trying so hard to heal itself on what little he did have left in his system. Squirming to move a little Antonio grunted a soft whimper as the rope scraped up along one of the gashes from the whip. Quickly quieting himself down he mere took sharp deep breaths and sunk back onto the mast, trying to regain a little more strength again his stomach growled loudly in complaint. Forcing himself to try and think of something other than just how hungry he really was.

Already felt wrecked. It'd had been a long time since he was last ever in a situation as bad as this one. And it was taking its toll on the Spaniard's body, falling in and out of consciousness all day from the heat, exhaustion and pain. Antonio barely noticed the night fall, it was only when the temperature started to drop did it relieve a little stress on the Spaniard as he huffed a short dry breath falling back asleep again. His body trying so hard to heal itself on what little he did have left in his system. Squirming to move a little Antonio grunted a soft whimper as the rope scraped up along one of the gashes from the whip. Quickly quieting himself down he mere took sharp deep breaths and sunk back onto the mast, trying to regain a little more strength again his stomach growled loudly in complaint. Forcing himself to try and think of something other than just how hungry he really was.

Arthur sat off on the bowsprit and out of the way while everyone ate and slowly filed off deck save for the two or three along with Second Mate Barret who stayed up for their turn to take night watch. Before leaving with the rest of the men, Peter brought him his bowl of mush, which was most likely some sort of potato with water and another sort of veggie that he didn't want to think about how long they'd been rotting in the cargo, and a hard chunk of bread. Making sure the men were gone, he walked up to Antonio, pulled up a barrel, and sat, waiting for him to come to. He deserved this kindness, as long as he didn't do anything else to make Arthur's head spin.

After a while Antonio chuckled a little. "You know it's a little creepy Kirkland… to wake up and see another man watching you..." Antonio breathed with a shaky laugh at the end of it. He'd only passed out for so long from hunger; as he eyed the Brit cautiously he chewed at his dry abused lip from him biting it so much before.

"What is it you want this time? Come to taunt me more?" The Spaniard cooed in a clearly mocking voice that was raspy and husky from lack of fresh drinking water and from the salt from the sea water that had been attacking his stiff, aching body all day. Raising an eyebrow he saw the small proportion of food set as side before looking back up at the Brit curiously.

Arthur snorted, "Is it really wise to address the man who holds your life in his hands so rudely? Stupid git." Laughing a little, he slurped up the rest of his soup until a little puddle was left. Dipping his bread into the puddle to soften it, he held it to the man's lips. "Eat you bastard."

"I'd like to be able to eat with my hands untied. At least give me the dignity for that..." Antonio mumbled against the bread, resisting the urge to take it as it was. But the Spaniard wasn't completely dead; he still held some standards of pride even in the painful condition he was in currently. His eyes casting up a little hopefully towards the Brit deciding that as long as Arthur played on the nice side, the Spaniard would down play just a little bit for the moment at least.

"Now pet, do you really think that I, of all people, would do no such thing. Now you can let me feed you like a babe or you can starve. And from the looks of it, today was hell and tomorrow will be at least twice as worse. So: Take. The. Damn. Bread." Arthur punctuated each word in a clip manner and held it out to the man's lips. He couldn't untie him even if he wanted to but he would be sure that he ate a little.

Antonio gritted his teeth at the name Arthur had just used and hesitated for a few moments before finally giving up and taking a reluctant bite out of the bread. It tasted horrible but then again it was better than nothing. Embarrassingly enough, as Antonio chewed at the bread his stomach growled rather loudly yet again. Thankful for at least even a little food but remained quiet about being called pet which really set the Spaniard a little on edge when he'd heard it.

Smirking a little in silent victory, Arthur pulled the bread hunk from Antonio's lips and nibbled a little off where the darker had previously been and dipped it back in the soup. "Antonio my dear," Arthur held up the bread again, just far enough from him to keep him taking a bit out of it, "can you answer some questions for me? I'll feed you the rest of this if you do."

Antonio flicked his eyes up to the Brit as he narrowed his eyes at him not quite sure what to expect as he sighed. The Spaniard didn't really see any other choice as he closed his eyes for a few moments but eventually nodded. Whether Antonio knew it or not, his guard had slowly been dropping the whole time he'd been eating which probably was a very stupid thing to of let happen especially on his rival's ship.

The complacency with his demand was odd. It put Arthur on edge. Up until that point, Antonio had forced him to drag the answers off his lips. As nice as it was to have the man splayed before him, he didn't like it. Arthur just shook his head, "Just see me in the evening when we let you down after tomorrow. Now eat, or be hungry." Pushing the bread forward, he held the bread and waited for him to finish the food.

Antonio frowned, he didn't know what the Brit wanted from him as he tried to speak a little more he only was silenced by the bread. Grumbling a little he chewed at it slowly even though he was rather hungry and would have devoured it out of other circumstances. "Why do you want me to do that?" Antonio mumbled with a small amount of food still left in his cheeks.

He really was amazed at the self-restraint the Antonio had when give the rest of the bread. Even he probably would have choked it all down as fast as possible to ease his stomach. Not use to having to qualify his demands, he though carefully about what he said next, "Because Antonio, you are," and what followed were carefully tiptoed, "a curious man. Just like myself. And I think we are very alike. That is why you'll come. Because now you know I have questions and you want to know about what I don't know. Am I correct?" Arthur really hoped he was.

Antonio paused from eating as he stared at Arthur surprised and swallowed roughly on his mouthful. "You're an idiot Kirkland. Why would you ask me something only to delay it until I'm let down from this stupid assed mast? Why not just let me down now?" Antonio whined lowly, mostly confused by the Brit's actions as he was only trying to figure them out for himself. Wincing a little, Antonio went to move the rope once again bit into one of the gashes just a little more tightly than before.

Arthur chose to ignore the majority of the man's question and wrapped it up as a simple, "Because I can. But for now, indulge me because I am a curious man, and I need to know." Looking at Antonio, Arthur suddenly realized that this man was actually much taller than him. Pushing himself up with his toes, he presses his lips quickly to the tied man's cheek before pulling away hastily.

Realizing what he'd done, he could feel his face beginning to burn and he turned on his heel to his Quarters and shut himself inside. Pushing himself up against the door, Arthur breathed heavily. He'd changed the rules of this little game he played. He changed them and now he wasn't sure on whether or not this was a bad thing. It made him more confused and even more desperate to know what was wrong. He hated his stubbornness. Pulling of most of his clothing, he flopped into bed in a fit and wished himself asleep and that his curiosity would drown at the bottom of the ocean.

Antonio blinked most certainly surprised at what the Brit had done and his sudden and rather abrupt leave. "W-what the hell was that?" Antonio mumbled to himself as his cheek tingled a little from where the Brit had kissed them. Shaking his head figuring he must be going mad Antonio sighed and closed his eyes, his cheeks felt unlawfully hot against the cool air as if they'd heated themselves up, which they had and flushed a light shade of red. Ignoring his own pain Antonio kicked barely at the mast cursing himself for letting the Brit get to him no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Eventually after an uneasy few hours Antonio finally drifted off to sleep again. His body still driving him mad with the itch from the now dry salty sea water he'd been doused with earlier. Pain from the whip lashes still throbbing somewhat with a dull aching pain in its wake.

Through the night, Arthur dream about nothing, just pitch black rolling and heat. When he'd finally awoken in the morning, the last thing on his mind was getting out of bed. He didn't want to face the day and more importantly, did not to face Antonio. Nope, no, definitely not. Pulling on his clothing with no consideration for how he looked, he blushed all through breakfast and when asked by Peter if he was coming down with something, shooed the boy away. With a slight bustle on deck, Arthur knew he couldn't stay shut up in his cabin any longer. Doing his best to calm his own racing heart, he slipped out the door into the cool morning breeze, thanking the sea for being kind with her weather.

At the time Antonio woke up, he really wish he hadn't the ach and pain hadn't left his body that night. Blinking as he looked around Antonio had no idea what time it was as the sun was already reasonably high into the sky. Looking around at the crew bustling around him Antonio sighed, another day with the pain as he squirmed could feel a few things going numb from the tightness of the ropes. Trying to move like his wrist just a tiny bit careful so the rope wouldn't tighten any more on it.

The Spaniard was surprised nothing too bad had happened to him while he'd been defenseless and asleep. Licking his dry and cracked lips Antonio was grateful for the little amount of food Arthur had fed him last night, but he still wondered why especially when he'd ordered no, food or water. Not lasting long at all with the pounding headache coming back Antonio sigh wondering when he'd be let down and closed his eyes drifting back off to sleep, hoping he'd wake when they were untying him.

Looking down from his usual perch, Arthur saw Antonio; eyes closed and rather limp for a man who'd been standing for over twenty-four hours. He got worried that perhaps the slim chance that it was too much for him. Leaving the Quarter Deck, he made his way indirectly over to Antonio. It seemed like the high sun had taken its toll on his skin. Or was he always so sun kissed? Arthur watched the ropes slacken a little then re-tighten as Antonio breathed, in and out slowly but surely. Glad that he was still alive, Arthur scurried past him, not wanting to be seen lingering.

Antonio groaned as the headache also left a dull ache on his head, and just when his body was wrecked with enough pain as it was. Blinking with a groggy over cast mind Antonio looked around. It seemed semi-dark around him, and sure enough he looked out past the ships rails and to the horizon of what he could see from where he was tied, figuring the sun was just going down.

Looking about the deck it seemed rather quiet compared to what it had been before that afternoon, which made Antonio wonder when he was going to be finally taken down, not sure if he was looking forward to his little confrontation that he had coming up with the British Captain or not. The night was yet another rather chilly one, worse so because they were out at sea and not back on land just yet.

As opposed to the rest of the day passed quickly much to his liking, the night passed slowly. Too slowly. With the slowness, the rocking, the counting to sixty over and over and over again, it all got to Arthur. "Damn it all." Flipping his cover off, he pulled of his pants and boots and crept out of the cabin. Reaching the mast, he circled it before gathering his courage. Tapping Antonio's face we whispered, "Hey, Spaniard, wake up."

Antonio blinked as he slowly came too again as he frowned when he saw the Brit just barely in the darkness. "What?" he groaned clearly a little annoyed that he hadn't been taken down yet, did this mean he was supposed to spend the night tied up too and be released in the morning? Antonio sighed and regained himself as he squirmed, slowly waking up as he glanced around, yet an empty deck except for that on the helm and Arthur before was all that greeted Antonio. "Do I get to be let down finally?" Antonio asked a little hopefully. Wondering how his body would take to the sudden release if he was.

"Yes, it is time. Just... here. Wait a moment." Arthur nodded. Something in him was satisfied that Antonio had to ask, that he was giving out. First, he had to untie the knots that wrapped around his chest and around the wooden poll, then the rope that bound his arms. Moving just to Antonio's left, he started fiddling with the knot until it became looser. "Is your chest feeling better?" He asked to make conversation that would fill the silence. The rope finally loose enough, the coil of knot fell apart and the fiber fell to the deck.

Shuddering a strained breath against the ropes movements to the gashes they'd been digging into, which had only slightly healed. "Ahn... If you call and aching pain like your torso has been thrown into a pit of ice fire then sure. Loads better." Antonio grunted sarcastically, huffing a breath of relief though when one lot of ropes finally hit the deck, causing him to fall forward only a little distance since the fact his arms were still bound his body weak from being pulled up for so long. The ropes having left raw red marks on where they'd been tied, due to his small attempts of when he'd tried to struggle when the Brit hadn't been watching over him.

Arthur chuckled, "Well I suppose if you put it that way. Oh for heaven's sake, use me." Pushing up against the man to keep him from pulling against the remaining restraints with his weight. Reaching around the other with both hands, he felt his way around the rope until he found the next knot and began to pick at it to. "Be grateful I'm taking you down early," he pushed into him more to create more slack, "bastard," Arthur added in for good measure. After several moments of silence he felt it slip. "Sorry about this," pushing harder into the other's chest with his shoulder in a way he was sure hurt with the raw skin but he was able to work much faster and the knot fell apart quickly.

Antonio sighed as he quietly flopped against the Brit and closed his eyes slightly. He was still feeling ill from the headache but he kept that quiet. Only to wince when felt the Brit's shoulder pushing into some of his wounds, so sucking in a sharp breath Antonio struggled to stay quiet and not whimper at the pain that the other was causing only being as stubborn as always. "You know that's the first time I've ever heard you apologize to about anything to me..." Antonio said dully and quietly. A small smirk playing on his lips. "You're not growing soft are you?" The Spaniard teased with a small chuckle, all meaning to be innocent fun to try and lighten what position he was in.

"Shut up idiot. I'm not soft like some wretched wench. I'm Captain Kirkland. Greatest and more feared sailor of the seas. I'm just making this easier on me," Arthur huffed and grumbled with his face smashed into Antonio's right shoulder. Did Antonio really think he was funny? He was the half dead and tied to a mast at the total mercy of a ruthless man. If he really wanted to be funny, he should recite part of Romeo and Juliet. "I bit my thumb at thee," he spoke only to himself, imagining the scene unfolding. "Careful now. I've just about got it," Arthur warned a bit louder as the roped loosened and came undone.

Rolling his eyes Antonio felt himself fall forward just a little more but managed to catch himself on his feet, just barely standing up if it weren't for Arthur still holding him up. "You're not that feared as you think you know... there are still some places on this earth that's not afraid of you... and proud of it too. Calling themselves the last freelancers of sea." Antonio mumbled as his smirk only grew wider. As he groaned a little but forced himself to stand up on his own once the rope broke away from the mast finally.

Antonio bit his bottom lip as he ruefully pushed the Brit's hand away not wanting to have to rely completely on the other to walk. "Of course I can walk old geezer." Antonio mumbled taking a deep breath the Spaniard shuffled a foot forward but stumbled a little only just catching himself as he regained his balance shoot a glare off to the side cursing once again under his breath before straightening up and curling his hands into tight fists while he took a few normal steps forward. "Fine. But food while I talk. I'm not answering anything on an empty stomach." Antonio demanded as his breath became a little shaky from the pain of his chest.

Arthur could only smirk at the other's pitiful attempt to be independent. He considered it karma for calling him a geezer. He wasn't old! He was young for captains. They both were! Well, as far as he knew. When his help was finally welcomed, he pulled Antonio's arm over him and helped support the man. "Alright then. But if you get mouthy I reserve the right to throw you off my ship."

Slowly helping them both across deck, Arthur finally made it back to his cabin and got them both inside. Once in, he let Antonio bear his own weight, "Get off. You're heavier than you look. Take the stool, the bed, I don't care just don't touch my things." Picking his shirt from the chair he'd placed it on before trying to sleep only a few hours prior, he tossed it on his desk and sat waiting for the other to make their move.

Antonio was only more than happy to slip away from Arthur as he of course moved for the bed where he laid back onto with a relieved sigh with his eyes closed for a few moments as he regained himself. Redefining his weight again as the Spaniard breathed shallowly and eventually peeped his eyes open after a few moments of rest. "What kind of questions are we talking about?" Antonio asked a little curiously as he glanced towards the Brit waiting for a reply, concerned as to what Arthur was going to ask.

* * *

Did you know that one of my favorite things in the world is torturing people. ... Especially with cliffies.

Yes, so like I said. I'll be less busy soon and more will be posted. Not just this but of other things too.

Fare thee well out there.

-MattieWinter-


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